A petty drip upon ones chair
slipping down the side
to one’s underwear
I look up, confused
what is this drip
that’s wet my chair
so I slide and slip?
An elephant a top the ceiling
gives one a gutsy, queasy feeling.
“What-ho!” I say, feeling quite brave
“What are you doing?” in a high octave.
The elephant stares with a black, beady eye,
as the ceiling creaks a cracking cry.
“Get down from there you shameless brute!
Back to the Circus with you,
I give you the boot!”
It stares a long and pointed stare
that wets my moistened underwear.
I pause and turn toward the door
and race for the knob, my hand a-claw.
The elephant falls, it gives bold chase,
I’m on the garden grass, racing post haste.
I reach the wall and take a breath
before being trampled to my dastardly death.
If you see an elephant a-top your ceiling
take note of that most-queasy feeling
and remember to run, and run post haste;
do not stop when an elephant gives chase.